The Kidnap: Psychotic!Sans x Detective!Reader

Chapter 2: Pineapples

(Y/N) and Frisk drove for a day straight, determination helping to keep them awake. Still, by the time they pulled up in front of their destination, a two story white house in Santa Barbara, they were both exhausted. Nonetheless, they dragged themselves up the walkway and knocked on the door, files under Frisk's arm.

A bald man wearing a polo and jeans opened the door, an aggravated expression on his face. It changed as soon as he saw the girls, eyes widening and a smile spreading. "(Y/N)! Frisk! What are you two doing here?" His eyes narrowed when he saw the files Frisk held. "Oh, so this isn't a casual visit?"

Frisk grinned and gave him a quick hug, seeming to enjoy his scowl. "Nah, we only use you for information. You should know this, Henry," She cooed. (Y/N) giggled and gave him a quick hug as well, stepping into the house she had spent quite a lot of time in back as a teenager. She still came over from time to time, of course, but it had been a few months since she'd gotten the chance.

"So what's the problem?" Henry asked, leading the two into his kitchen. Frisk took a seat at the table while (Y/N) jumped on the counter, grabbing a nearby pineapple (the Spencer family seemed to always be surrounded by pineapples) and turning it in her hands.

"We've got some missing people," Frisk replied, holding the files out to Henry. The man grabbed the stack, flipping through each in turn. "We know the guys who were taken - we're dating two of them - and have got no leads."

"Please tell me neither of you are dating the one prosecuted for murder," Henry sighed, exasperation in his voice. (Y/N) raised her hand, a grin on her face. "I'm not surprised," he huffed, rolling his eyes slightly as he did.

"It's a long story. Just help us, would you?" (Y/N) snapped, feeling rather defensive of her boyfriend - which didn't happen very often. "I could understand why Sans was taken, a lot of people don't like him because of what he did. I can even understand why Papyrus was taken, he's Sans' brother and to get to Sans they'd take Papyrus. What I don't understand is why they'd both be kidnapped, and why whoever it was would take Asriel."

"Well, whoever it is probably knows all three of them, and probably knows you two as well. Any people with uncertain backgrounds or violent tendencies that you all know?" Henry asked, leaning against the counter (Y/N) sat upon.

Frisk nodded and jumped out of her seat, revived by the same excitement and sense of progress that a flowed through (Y/N)'s veins. "Not violent, but definitely an uncertain background. Gotta go get the file, hold on!" With that, she skipped out of the house.

Henry sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, glancing at the files in his hand. "What have you gotten yourselves into?" He asked. (Y/N) let out a puff and leaned against the cabinet. She gave him the short of what happened, what with the writing on the wall and the picture. He didn't seem too surprised, but witheld sparky comments.

The door slammed open and voices filled the air. Henry buried his face in his hands, groaning as his son and his best friend jumped into the kitchen. "Hey, dad," Shawn said, taking the pineapple from (Y/N)'s hands and tossing it into the air.

"What, I don't get a hello?" (Y/N) asked jokingly, jabbing Shawn in the side.

"Yes, yes, hello small child," Shawn said, pausing his pineapple-tossing to pat her head.

"Hey, (N/N)," Gus, Shawn's best friend, said, taking a seat across from the recently returned Frisk. "Why are you guys here?"

"I bet if I use your magic head I could guess," Shawn said, leaning off the counter and walking over to Gus.

"Don't you dare, Shawn. Shawn. Shawn!" Gus yelled, swatting Shawn's hand away. Shawn giggled and put his hand on Gus' bald head, another hand to his own temple.

"Hm. . . the spirits are aligning, they tell me someone you both care about deeply has been stolen. Maybe three people?" Shawn guessed, opening his eyes and looking at each of them in turn.

"Wow, Shawn, however did you know," (Y/N) deadpanned. She knew Shawn was hyper-observant, photographic memory, whatever it was called. He'd probably seen the files in his father's hand and deduced the obvious reason for their visit.

"I'm magical," he said, jazz hands trying to pass off as mystical energy. She rolled her eyes and grinned, both pleased with and annoyed by his antics.

"Anyway," Frisk said, holding out the final file, which Shawn promptly swooped up. "One of our friends, Dimitri. She knows all three of them, all of us, and is constantly over at our house."

"Wait, you guys live together?" Gus interrupted.

Frisk nodded, tracing a finger across the table. "She's a therapist, works with Sans. Used to treat a girl Sans killed; if she ever found out he killed her, I couldn't say. She never seemed very worried by what happened to the kid. She never really talks about her past, avoids all conversation on it, really. What I wanted to draw attention to was that blue mark at the top; it's the sign of an unofficial edit. What do y'all think?"

"The spirits tell me-" Shawn managed to get out before Henry covered his mouth.

"The spirits say jack shit because the spirits don't exist," Henry said, sounding annoyed at his son. (Y/N) jumped off the counter to grab a soda from the fridge, her adrenaline beginning to fail her. "It sounds like this Dimitri could be a lead. Or she could just be someone with a dark background. Have you guys tried to call her?"

(Y/N) nodded, biting her thumb in aggravation. "No answer, and when we swung by her office the complex janitor said she hadn't been there in a few days. Same with the super at the apartment building. I guess we could try to track her down, find out why she's avoiding us and if she's involved."

"Sounds like the best plan you got," Henry nodded, finally releasing Shawn. The younger Spencer spat several times and stole (Y/N)'s drink to 'wash the taste of old man' out of his mouth.

"You guys gonna stay in Santa Barbara?" Gus asked, ignoring Shawn's outburst.

"We'll try," Frisk said, standing up. (Y/N) followed suit, attempting to stretch the weariness from her bones. "See you guys around," Frisk yawned, rubbing at her eyes.

"Let us know before you leave. We can get Mexican food with Lassiter and Jules before you go," Shawn said, rocking slightly on his heels.

"Doesn't Lassiter hate you?" (Y/N) asked, stifling a yawn.

"He loves me, he's just too scared to admit it," came the immediate response.

Dork.
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Pressure pounded in his skull, body throbbing in pain. Sans slowly opened his eyes, groaning slightly at the amount of work it took. It was dark, darker than he remembered it being. What did he remember it being? When he tried to remember where he last was, what he was last doing, it came up as a metal pipe swinging into his field of vision and hitting him again. And again. And again. And again. And - how many fucking times was he hit? He lost count, and just thinking about it made his head hurt worse than it already did. He looked down, unsurprised to see blood staining his hoodie. His hands, now that he could divide the pain into their appropriate limbs, were bound behind his back, his legs tied together tight enough to cut off the blood flow - probably. Far from his current position was a dirty mirror, though it was clean enough to see his own reflection. His nose was crusted with blood, eye looked bruised, nothing he couldn't recover from.

A slight hiss filled the room, one his tired brain was too exhausted to find the source of. A purple haze obscured his vision, relaxing his senses and taking the pain away. He wondered about (Y/N), if she knew he was missing. If whoever had done this to him had done this to her. God, he hoped not - she had done nothing wrong, she didn't deserve to be in any pain. She didn't deserve having to put up with him, but that was a mile-long thought he didn't have time to process. All he knew was, if anyone had dared to hurt his (N/N), they'd have a bad time.

With this, he slipped back into darkness.
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A/N: Yeah, yeah, I know I didn't write the Psych boys as well as I could have, shut up. Also, that thought you're having about where the plot is going? Don't have it. Not yet, anyway, there's gonna be some more shit that happens. Just know the references shall be plenty.